


blossoming alone over you

by twoheadedcalf



Series: widofjord week 2020. [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Trans Male Character, cad only in the bg!!!, they are both trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedcalf/pseuds/twoheadedcalf
Summary: “Ja… Did you like them?” He sounds shy and his voice is like a breeze by Fjord’s ear, warm, caressing him. “The pictures?”“Yeah, Cay. I liked them. I liked them a lot.”“Okay.” It sounds like he’s talking around a smile. A grin spreads across Fjord’s face at hearing it. “Good.”There’s a beat of silence. Then some rustling. And more silence. Fjord hears Caleb’s breathing get heavier and heavier across the line. He feels like he’s about to combust.“Are you—” He clears his throat. “What are you doing?”“Touching myself,” Caleb says, without any hesitation, and Fjord makes a noise. “Would you like to watch?”“Pardon?”*day four of widofjord week: modern au.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Series: widofjord week 2020. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811557
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	blossoming alone over you

**Author's Note:**

> for the 'modern au' prompt of widofjord week 2020!! check them out @widofjordweek on twitter!! hope u guys like it!!
> 
> warnings: i am not transmac!! i use the words 'cunt' and 'clit' in writing so beware if any of that might make you uncomfortable while reading. critiques are welcomed and appreciated.

One would think that, considering the soft, delicate nature of the product their shop sells, customers would be a little kinder to workers, maybe a little more respectful. No such luck. Fjord’s been back at the store for less than an hour, after having a hearty sandwich from the diner down the street for lunch, and yet, he’s more than ready to be done with his shift. 

A small halfling lady had started cursing when he couldn’t name the exact flower she’d been searching for from the very vague description he was given, asked to see the manager when he tried to calm her down, and then _demanded_ to see the owner after Fjord informed her _he_ was the manager.

All of that only to be met with Caduceus’ impassive, neutral face and be sent on her way without any bouquets or pots. Awfully anticlimactic, yes, but his ears were still ringing a little bit from her shrill voice.

The flower shop is pretty much the same as all his other customer service jobs with one stark difference: he actually _likes_ it. It’s not something he has simply resigned himself to and struggled to find the beauty in it, and it isn’t something he was forced into in a moment of desperation. It’s a nice, comfortable job that makes him happy.

Yes, dealing with the allergies has been basically hell but he’s pretty much used to it after a whole year at storefront. And it’s incredibly satisfying to see something bloom because of the work _his_ hands did. ' _Facilitating life’_ , that’s how Caduceus puts it, but Fjord has never been able to quite let go of the word _creation_. These plants, at least, wouldn’t have been here without him.

It’d been hard at first — he was always afraid of getting things wrong: working the dirt too hard, watering too much, cutting the stem at the wrong spot. But his movements were surer now, more certain and it always put a smile on his face, seeing someone leave with their little flower pot or bouquet in hand. What really got to him, of course, were the _goddamn allergies_.

Yes, he’d gotten better at handling them after he started ordering the allergy medicine Calianna recommended him in bulk but the first twenty minutes of everyday were still _hell_. He’d basically spent ten minutes sneezing non-stop and then the next ten trying to get a hold of himself.

All in all, it was pretty boring but nicer than anything he’d ever had before. Every now and then, though, something out of the ordinary would happen.

* * *

It’d taken him a long time to convince Caleb to get a new phone. Since Fjord first met him, he still walked around with the second hand flip phone he’d bought five years ago. It only sent pixelated pictures, the cell signal was pretty much the worst, and he took so long to type that Caleb just tended to avoid texting altogether.

It made him a lot harder to reach, which is exactly what the man seemed to want, but it wasn’t exactly ideal for his friends.

To give him some credit, Caleb did end up buying the most expensive model when he finally surrendered to technology. Fjord had been the only one invited to join him, since their friend group was divided between people who don’t really understand how money works and people who would like to fuck Caleb over. Fjord watched, half in horror, half in awe, as Caleb haggled with the vendor and actually got him to lower the price, and then obsessed over the payment process.

His new cellphone has a hypersensitive touch screen, a large display, high resolution cameras and very good reception. Caleb mostly uses it to send him pictures of Frumpkin and Yannik, which— of course he does, Fjord didn’t know what he expected. Long, paragraphical, single texts also feature over their conversations, and what he cherishes the most: rares pictures of himself with his hair down, looking soft just for him.

He doesn’t normally send them in the middle of the afternoon though, too busy with his work at the bookstore or too busy with the kids he lectures every now and then, which is why he’s so surprised when his phone dings with Caleb’s specific chime. 

There’s no one at the store right now except him, by the counter, and Caduceus to the side, sitting in a lawn chair and sipping his tea, so Fjord fishes the phone out of his pocket. 

The latest thing on their text thread is a picture of Caleb, facing the recently acquired mirror in his living room, in his linen pants and a t-shirt that used to belong to Fjord, looking soft and hesitant. His hair is down. Fjord smiles, sends a heart emoji back and puts his phone down.

A minute later. Another ding. And then another before Fjord manages to pick the phone up.

In the first picture, Caleb is front of the mirror again, kneeling on the ground, _without any pants on._ His thighs are just a little spread, looking a lot meatier from the way his legs are folded. Fjord can’t hold back the flash of a memory from last time they were in bed together: his own hands, looking so big around Caleb’s thighs, pushing his legs up and out. He lets out an uneven breath.

The second picture has Caleb in the same position as the previous one, but pushing the hem of the shirt up a little, showing off the auburn happy trail leading down his belly to his dark blue boxer briefs. The neckline is so worn that it’s falling off one shoulder, letting Fjord see the delicate curve of his naked neck, a fading hickey from days ago on his collarbone.

Fjord feels his ears twitch.

Before he can conjure up a response or maybe even put down his phone so embarrassing heat stops spreading through his body, more pictures:

Caleb without his shirt on, a dusting of red hair spiraling around his rosy, perked up nipples, his head carefully tilted to the side to bare his neck. Inviting. Alluring. Fjord closes his mouth before he starts drooling on the counter.

And the other, Caleb’s hand smoothing down his own torso, in the direction of his— of his—

The last one with Caleb’s hand down his boxer briefs, biting his bottom lip. Fjord can see the shape of his bony fingers through the fabric. Fuck. _Fuck._

He stares at it for long enough that the screen goes dark. Fjord takes a deep breath for the first time in minutes. He’d never expected Caleb to be the kind of person who— sends nudes? Sure, he’s always been a lot more confidently sensual than Fjord ever expected while in the bedroom but that’s— different. Like the way Fjord feels comfortable growling a little when Caleb teases him for too long. Private. Restricted. The kind of thing they only do in his or Caleb’s bedroom while no one else is around. Or at least that’s what he’d thought.

Fjord still hasn’t managed to will the blush away from his cheeks when there’s another ding. He waits but no others follow. He stares at the phone before unlocking it, holding his breath in.

There’s Caleb. He sees even more naked skin and a glimpse of pink wetness before closing his eyes and slamming his phone, screen down, on the counter. He takes a deep breath, ears flicking so hard they brush his undercut. He hears rustling — Caduceus moving to check up on him from afar, probably — but doesn’t look. He can feel a flush spreading over his body, arousal heavy on his gut, blush high on his cheeks.

Fjord opens his eyes, walks to the back of the flower shop in long strides, not stopping until he reaches the bathroom, locking the door and sitting on the toilet seat. A long inhale, a matching exhale. He unlocks his phone.

Caleb is still there. There’s no mirror this time and he seems closer, like the phone is leaning on something. He’s naked of everything except his fuzzy, grey socks. His lips are bruised pink. His hair brushes his collarbones. His hand is between his legs, fingertips glistening with wetness, folds flushed pink and swollen as he spreads himself apart.

Something twists in his belly, hot and heavy, and Fjord feels himself clench. It’s a little embarrassing, being this worked up over a few pictures but he can’t help it. Caleb is just so— so— pretty and welcoming, soft when he wants to be and demanding when he needs to be. It’s just so easy to fall with him.

Fjord is calling him, putting the phone to his ear before he even realizes it. Caleb picks up on the second dial.

“Hey.”

“ _Hallo_.”

“So, the lecture—?”

“The kid’s mom canceled.”

“How did you jump from that into— sending me— you know.”

“I was thinking about you…” Caleb says, his voice more like a whisper.

Fjord swallows. “Yeah?”

“ _Ja_ … Did you like them?” He sounds shy and his voice is like a breeze by Fjord’s ear, warm, caressing him. “The pictures?”

“Yeah, Cay. I liked them. I liked them a lot.”

“Okay.” It sounds like he’s talking around a smile. A grin spreads across Fjord’s face at hearing it. “Good.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then some rustling. And more silence. Fjord hears Caleb’s breathing get heavier and heavier across the line. He feels like he’s about to combust.

“Are you—” He clears his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Touching myself,” Caleb says, without any hesitation, and Fjord makes a noise. “Would you like to watch?”

“ _Pardon_?”

“Do you want to watch me touch myself, Fjord? Do you want to watch me finger myself? Do you want to watch me spread myself for the camera just so you can see?”

Arousal twists inside of him. His voice comes out strangled, “Caleb, I’m at work right—,” which isn’t a _‘no’_.

“Just put me on mute,” Caleb says, like it’s a simple as that.

Fjord closes his eyes, gnaws on his bottom lip, tongues the root of his tusk. Barely holds back saying ' _you just want me to ruin my underwear’_ before murmuring, “Okay.”

“Alright. I’ll call you in one minute.” Caleb says but that isn’t nearly enough time for Fjord to prepare for what’s about to happen. He sets the phone down on the sink, to make sure he doesn’t drop the goddamn thing down when everything gets too overwhelming; Caleb won’t be able to see his whole body very well but he’s pretty sure that’s not the point.

The dial for ' _incoming video call’_ shows up just as Fjord leans back. He accepts.

Caleb is leaning close to the camera, a corner of his mouth pulled up in a half-smile. He whispers, “Hey, _schatz_.”

“Hi, Cay.”

Caleb’s lips actually pull up into a grin. “You were supposed to mute me.”

“Yeah, I will. Just wanted to see your pretty face and hear your soft voice at the same time for a sec.”

A rose golden flush blooms on his cheeks. “Okay.”

“Hey, Cay?”

“ _Ja_?”

“I love you.”

Caleb glances down, a lock of hair falling over his face, suddenly embarrassed, and Fjord almost melts. “I love you too. Turn the volume down, alright?”

Fjord mutters, “Okay,” and does so. The complete silence is weird — Fjord is too aware of his own breathing, feeling a little lightheaded, his heartbeat steadily rising, chest almost hurting with it. He licks his lips, eyes glued to the screen.

Caleb leans back, a soft light illuminating him, still naked, crouching, sitting on his haunches now, legs obscenely spread so Fjord can see everything: the soft, fuzzy hair leading down from his chest to his navel, the way it thickens underneath it, the red thatch right over his cunt, swollen, pink, his entrance, glistening and fluttering, his fingertips pressing around it.

Fjord lets out a small gasp, shuddering. Caleb smiles. Suddenly, he realizes _Caleb_ can hear all his noises, all his little whines and whimpers and grunts. His vision swims before settling on the phone screen in front of him again. Caleb looks sharp and smug in a way that makes Fjord lose his breath.

There’s no way to divert his gaze to somewhere more innocent with a screen this small. Fjord can only stare, helpless, fascinated, as Caleb sinks a finger inside himself, slow like he’s got all the time in the world. His eyes go half-lidded, sultry, and his mouth falls open just a bit. He paints a delectable picture.

Fjord sees his finger start to move, bending in and out, almost to the last knuckle, a steady, set rhythm. He sneaks a hand down his own pants, grunts when he finds himself already wet and aching, his clit sensitive to the touch. He bites his lip when he touches it, barely muffling a moan.

On the screen, Caleb crooks his finger and jolts forward, mouth falling open wider. He keeps doing it again and again and again, his body twitching forward and closer to Fjord, throat working — he must be making those quiet, choked noises Fjord likes hearing, likes _causing_ , so much. Fjord rumbles at that and Caleb shivers.

It doesn’t take long before Caleb stops, and spreads himself again so Fjord can watch a second finger sink in — he’s always less gentle with himself than Fjord is with him. He normally admonishes him for it but— that’s pretty fucking hot right now. It’s very hot seeing Caleb open up to skinny digits then tighten around them. His own hand stops moving so he can stare and his clit throbs painfully. He’s not used to waiting long for satisfaction.

They stay just like that for a moment, completely still, in tune with each other, before Caleb starts moving his fingers again and Fjord follows, circling his clit, as careful as he can be with his overgrown claws. He barely stops his eyes from drooping, barely stops them rolling back inside his head — he can’t miss even a second of it, he doesn’t _want_ to. He’s the only one who gets to see this and he will commit it to memory as best as he can.

Caleb melts before his eyes: his eyes go half-lidded, his shoulders drop, and abruptly, like he can’t hold himself up anymore, he sits on his heels. He looks so pretty and so sweet, it makes Fjord head spin and his heart hurt, aching to be by his side.

Caleb’s other hand joins the first one, playing with his clit now, rough and mean. _Intense._ It’s hypnotic, the way his fingers work, rubbing hard circles, in contrast with the way Caleb’s expression shudders again and again, begging, wanting, pliant — it makes Fjord’s chest rumble with a soft purr.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been but Caleb’s orgasm feels sudden. One minute, he’s moving his hands, fast but steady, and in the other, his eyes have fallen shut and his whole body is trembling, his hips twitching, bucking, seeking more, his hands’ movements erratic, almost mean, if the way Caleb jolts and lets his mouth fall open is anything to go by. His lips — bitten and bruised pink, swollen, so pretty — mouth words: Fjord recognizes _‘please’_ first and then his own _name_ —

It sends him over the edge in less than a second.

He doesn’t know when his eyes close but they do. He can’t get that image of Caleb — shaking, pink all over, soft and pliant, and wanting and _his_ — out of his head. His hand moves, frantic, against his clit and his own belly quivers, body locking up as his hips jerk forward, legs twitching, not quite deciding between spreading apart or slamming together. A wave of pleasure washes over him, intense enough to leave him blinded and deafened for a moment. He can only whisper out a soft _‘fuck!’_ and ride out the aftershocks.

When he finally opens his eyes, everything looks blurry and he feels fuzzy, relaxed, like all his limbs have been knocked loose. He blinks a few times before his vision properly clears and looks at his phone.

Caleb is laying on the ground, looking soft and dewy, his gaze just a little hazy. He smiles at Fjord. Fjord smiles back. He picks it up, brings it near himself again and turns the volume up a little.

“Hey.”

“ _Hallo_. Did you... like it?”

“I think you can tell that I liked it very, very much.”

Caleb grins, with only a little bit of a cocky edge to it. “I’m glad. It was good for me too. Very good.”

Fjord hums. “Can I come over tonight?”

“Yes, _schatz_ , please do.”

“I love you, Cay.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

The call disconnects. Fjord leans his head back against the wall, a dopey smile on his face. He knows he will have to do his very best to avoid Caduceus’ knowing gaze for the rest of the day in this tiny shop but he doesn’t mind it much at the moment. He’s happy.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find @bicalebwidogast on twitter!! feedback is appreciated!!


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